I feel like Lanh when she has to sit with Hai for too long with sharp objects nearby, but she can't use them to stab him. Except it's not just Hai. It's Hien's entire family here right now. All across from me. And it'd be considered assault and attempted murder.

In other words, it sucks right now.

But if I feel this irritated, I can only imagine how Idris feels. He's still holding my hand under the table, and it looks like he's zoned into the conversation. Especially when someone from his family says something. But he hasn't said anything himself. And no one's mentioned why we're even having this dinner. I don't think there's a good time to bring up the subject, but... that's up to Idris and his family.

"Briar!" I'm just turning in my seat when Amalia appears before me. She beams. "You're here!" I smile and let go of Idris' hand to pull her into a hug, but she turns to Idris before I can. "Idris! You're here, too!"

She throws her arms around him, making me sputter, "You're hugging him first?"

Amalia looks at me over her shoulder. "Idris gives better hugs."

Idris gives me a mix of an apologetic and smug look as he returns her hug. I shake my head at him, playfully glaring while my family and Marlowe laugh. Idris' family watches with distant amusement.

Amalia finally turns and hugs me. When she pulls away, she gives me big pleading eyes. "Can you help me practice? I wanna go on stage, but I wanna practice first, and I don't wanna practice by myself in case I mess up, and you'll tell me if I mess up."

"Oh..." I glance back at the table. Everyone's watching me now. "Well—"

"No, go ahead, Briar," Dad says, smiling at me from across the table. "It's fine."

That's not the approval I need. I look at Idris. He nods and smiles at me. "Go. Have fun."

Now I know it's fine. I nod, standing. "I'll be right back."

I take Amalia's hand and let her lead me to the side of the stage. The same woman from the first time I performed here is sitting with her laptop. Her eyes light up when she sees me.

"Oh, it's you," she smiles. "The girl with the really good voice." Is that actually how they remember me here? It feels good, but it's weird, too. "Are you singing again?"

"Actually—" I gesture to Amalia "—she's performing tonight. I'm helping her practice."

The woman's smile wavers before settling into her customer service face. She directs it towards Amalia and goes through the list of questions about whether she wants to play an instrument, how many songs, et cetera, et cetera. Amalia's going for five songs on the guitar. Good for her. And her parents since it'll get them a free meal.

The woman leads us to the back room. Amalia picks the acoustic guitar and we sit on the couch together. We go through a few songs. All from Broadway. And it goes beyond the usual songs she likes from Frozen, Matilda, and Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. She asks me to help her with songs I've sung for her after our lessons from The Mad Ones, Hamilton, Dear Evan Hansen, Be More Chill, Mean Girls, Heathers, Anastasia, Hadestown, 35MM, and a lot more.

"I think this is a lot more than five songs, Amalia," I say.

"Yeah, but then I can choose from a lot when I'm on stage," she argues.

Fair point.

We go through a few more songs, and when Amalia's satisfied, she leans over and rings the bell. A moment later, the guitar is back where it should be and the woman comes to get us. I wish Amalia luck at the side of the stage, indicating for her to go ahead. She stays where she is, though, looking up at me with big pleading eyes.

"Can you come on stage with me?" she asks.

I blink, laughing nervously. "You'll do fine, Amalia. You don't need me on stage with you."

"But I play better when you sing the songs." I hesitate. Like she knows I'm on the fence, she doubles down on her big pleading eyes that get me. Every. Single. Time. "Please."

I glance at the table. It looks like things are in the same stage as when I left. As in tense but not like they're about to kill each other, which—probably—means they haven't even come close to talking about Idris' parents kicking him out of the house. And I want to be there in case Idris needs some sort of support. Doesn't look like the food's there either, so maybe I have time. Five Broadway songs take about fifteen minutes. Twenty-five minutes at most maybe. I look back at Amalia. She's still begging me with her eyes.

I let out a breath. "Okay. Five songs..."

She beams, bouncing on the balls of her feet. "Thanks, Briar!"

Amalia drags me up on stage with her, only letting go of my hand to grab the acoustic guitar. She sits on the stool, setting the instrument on her lap. I stare at the microphone. My heart thuds against my chest, but at the same time, I'm not nervous about performing. Just... anticipating it... I don't know if it's a good or bad thing yet, but it's time to find out.

My hands shake ever so slightly as I grab the stand. I move it over, so it's in front of me. I adjust the height and the position, sending feedback throughout the room and causing people to turn to the stage.

My family, Marlowe, and Idris do a double-take when they see me up here. They smile while Idris' family all but roll their eyes, probably thinking I'm being rude for ditching the table to be on stage. I offer them a shrug before turning to Amalia with a nod.

"First song?" I ask.

We go through solos from different musicals. "I Love Play Rehearsal" from Be More Chill. "Waving Through A Window" from Dear Evan Hansen. "Wait for it" from Hamilton. "On Monday" from 35MM. I have the most fun with this last one, smirking and winking at Idris a lot. He blushes harder than he ever has this entire summer, especially when I blow a kiss at him at the end of the song.

There are hardly any breaks between the songs before Amalia wants to play the next one. I'm out of practice, and my voice isn't used to the strain of singing for so long. But I manage. And—I have to admit—it's satisfying to take on these different roles and attitudes one after the other. Especially when the audience laughs, goes quiet, or stares at me in awe exactly when I want them to.

In other words, I'm still a performer at heart and I still have all the skills for it.

I'm actually looking forward to what the fifth song could be, but Amalia slides off the stool and holds the guitar out to me. "You should pick the last song."

I clear my throat and step away from the microphone. "You want me to play the guitar?"

She nods, thrusting the guitar a little more insistently at me. "And sing, too! But don't do a Broadway song. I want something different."

I look out at the crowd. They're all looking back expectantly (except for Idris who's still trying to stop himself from blushing). It doesn't look like anyone hated me. If the light feeling in me is any indication, I know I didn't either.

I look back at Amalia with a smile. "Sure." I clear my throat. "But I think I might need water first."

Amalia points to the microphone. I pull it off the stand and hand it to her. She lifts it to her mouth and asks, "Can someone get Briar water?" At least ten people get to their feet, but Amalia says, "No. I don't want you to do it." She looks right at my table. "Idris, get your girlfriend water."

I laugh, covering my face as I turn away. When I look back out at the audience, Marlowe is saying something to Idris with a lot of aggressive hand gestures. He swats her hand away as he grabs a glass of water. I sit on the edge of the stage and Amalia kneels next to me as Idris comes over.

"Thank you," I say when Idris hands me the glass.

"No problem." He shoves his hands in his pockets, smiling at me. "You're really amazing, you know that?"

"Of course, she knows that," Amalia laughs, snuggling into my side as I take a few sips. "Why wouldn't Briar know that?"

I wrap an arm around Amalia. "Because I'm not as amazing as you. You totally stole the show."

Amalia giggles and hides her face in my shoulder. Idris smiles, looking between us.

"You were both amazing," he says. "No one can play the guitar like you, Amalia." Idris playfully tickles her. She screeches, folding deeper into me. When Idris looks at me, his smile sobers. He steps a little closer, his voice softening. "And you were amazing because of the acting. The singing. The acting while you were singing." He laughs, shaking his head. "I will never get over seeing you on stage."

I clutch the glass, smiling. Something in Idris' smile shifts, and I can't help but ask, "What?"

He laughs softly. "You're not blushing."

I press a hand to my cheek. My skin is warm, but not from embarrassment. It's from my high. I feel the corners of my lips turn up as I drop my hand. "Guess not..." I smirk at him. "I'm sorry I made you blush so hard, though."

He looks down at his shoes, shrugging. "Well, it was nice hearing you sing about how much you hope I would kiss you, talk to you, and take you." His eyes flicker around. "Can I kiss you right now?"

I blink. "Right now? In front of everyone?"

He nods. "Is that okay?" When I don't say anything, he laughs and admits, "Marlowe said I should kiss you right now so people know that we're dating and don't try to steal you since everyone probably fell in love with you."

I look back at our table. Sure enough, Marlowe's watching us with intense interest. Grandpa tries to make her turn her attention elsewhere, but she waves him off without looking at him. I have to laugh as I turn back to Idris.

"I don't mind kissing you if you're okay with everyone seeing," I say.

He thinks about it for a second. "I think a hug works, too." I set my glass aside and slide off the stage into his arms. He holds me tight, burying his face in my hair. "I'm so proud of you, Briar."

I shut my eyes. I guess Amalia had the right idea of hugging him first because he does give the best hugs. I don't think anything or anyone has ever made me feel as comforted as Idris does.

"Thanks, Idris," I whisper.

I turn my head to look back at the table. Marlowe makes a face at me, but I guess she's satisfied with the hug because she finally turns away. I see her straighten when she notices the way Idris' parents watch us: with contempt. I hope most if not all that contempt is directed towards me and not Idris.

I pull away and look up at him, keeping my hands clasped behind his neck. "How are things going?"

Idris stops himself from looking at the table, his arms tightening around my waist. "We haven't talked about it yet."

I frown. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to take all the attention away—"

"No. It's okay." He kisses my forehead. "Don't apologize. I was hoping you'd perform. It gives me time to relax and think about what I'm going to say." He smiles. "Plus, it makes you happy."

I pull him into another hug. "I think the first part is more important."

"Debatable."

"Not really." I pull away again. "Which means I should go sing that last song."

Idris lifts me back up on stage, taking the glass. "I'll leave you to it." He hesitates, and his eyes flicker to my lips. He clears his throat. "Can we actually kiss before I go? Are you still okay with it?"

Amalia giggles into her hands. She throws them out as she leans towards us. "You should! So you can practice before you get married!"

Idris' eyes widen as he looks between me and Amalia. "Am I missing something? Like a marriage proposal?"

I laugh, running a hand through my hair. "Not at the moment or anytime soon. But if you feel like you're missing a kiss, we can do that right now."

Idris cups my jaw with his free hand, tilting my head up. His lips brush against mine, and his hand slides from my jaw into my hair as he deepens the kiss. But before the rest of the room disappears, he pulls away.

He clears his throat, but his voice still comes out rough when he says, "I should leave you to it."

He kisses me on the cheek and hugs Amalia before he leaves. I watch him sit and banter with Marlowe and my family. His family sits in silence, eyeing him. Idris' back is to me, so I don't know if he takes notice. If he does, I hope it doesn't bother him too much. And I hope his family is judging me more than they're judging him.

"Are you gonna play now?" Amalia asks, tugging on my shirt.

I nod and get to my feet. I take the guitar from Amalia and lift the strap over my head, letting it rest on my shoulder. I push the stool aside, knowing I have way too much energy to sit. This has always been true. I think that's why I always preferred acting in musicals. There's always something I need to physically do.

Amalia stays on stage with me, sitting on the floor. Her feet are tucked beneath her, and she looks up at me with a toothy smile. I smile back before turning my attention to the crowd. The majority of people look back expectantly. A certain anticipation is in the air, and it brings me back to acting. The moment between the curtains rising and the first note or the first words of a play always held so much promise. Especially on opening night. This feels exactly like that in a way.

And I didn't realize how much I missed it.

Or how scared of it I am.

But I'll do it anyway.

I pull my hair out from under the strap of the guitar before I start the song. I find myself playing "Here's To Us" by Kevin Rudolf, the song that got me back into performing this summer—and the song that still feels true.

At first, I unconsciously look at the crowd to gauge their reaction, but eventually, I don't notice that they're there. I just get lost in the performance, feeling a bittersweet sense of melancholy bury itself deep in my chest. Soon enough, I start to tear up and my voice quivers under the weight of all the emotion, but it makes me feel empowered in a way. Like even if my dreams are broken, I am still royalty. Always have been and always will be no matter what happens from here on out.

After I strum the last chord, I take a step back from the microphone, blinking the tears away from my eyes. There's the slightest pause before the room erupts into applause. My family, Idris, and Marlowe get to their feet, and the rest of the room follows suit. My jaw drops as I take it all in. A second later, I start laughing, feeling the tears come back in full force. I push my hair out of my face and turn away. This feels like too much of a reaction just for singing and playing the guitar, but I guess that means I wasn't terrible. So who am I to complain?

Amalia stands, smiling at me. I step back, putting the guitar back on its stand as I motion for her to step forward and bow. She takes my hand, dragging me back to the front of the stage with her. She doesn't bow until I relent and do it with her. When I do, it feels like the audience cheers even louder.

Amalia and I walk off the stage, and the woman asks us for our table numbers, so she can waive the bills. "Great performance," she adds, smiling at us. She looks right at me when she says, "I hope to see you on stage more."

I smile and nod. "Thank you." I turn to Amalia, putting a hand on her head. "But that was nothing compared to this one playing the guitar."

Amalia giggles, wrapping her arms around my waist. "You were great, too, Briar!"

I return her hug. "Thanks, Amalia."

I glance out at the crowd until I spot her parents. They're already looking in our direction with wide smiles on their faces. I think any parent would react that way when their kid killed it on stage. One glance at my table confirms it.

I turn back to Amalia. "Let me walk you back to your parents."

Amalia nods, taking my hand. She skips the entire way, humming to herself. As we pass by a few tables, customers give us compliments. I smile and nod at them, giving quick "thank yous." It only makes Amalia's smile widen, and she skips a little faster to her table.

"You were amazing, sweetie!" Coralie beams.

Amalia wraps her arms around her mom's waist. "Thanks, Mommy!"

Coralie meets my eyes, her smile sobering. "You were phenomenal, Briar."

I smile. "Thank you, but that was all thanks to your daughter's guitar playing."

Armand chuckles. "I'm sure that's one part of it. The rest is all you. You have a real talent."

Coralie nods her agreement. "You certainly do." She studies me. "Do you have a moment to talk? I promise to make it quick."

I glance back at the table. Idris, Marlowe, and my family are all smiles and laughter. Idris' family limits themselves to polite nods, but it doesn't look like the rest of the table even notices. Doesn't look like Idris or his family will talk about them kicking him out anytime soon either.

I look back at the Lamberts. "Sure." I pull out a chair and sit. "What did you want to talk about?"

Armand leans forward, resting his clasped hands on the table. "Briar, there's something we haven't been telling you. I'm a talent scout and Coralie is a talent agent. One of us is usually out of the house because I scout talent, tell my wife about them, and she goes to see them for herself before offering certain opportunities."

I blink. "Oh..." Armand and Coralie glance at each other before giving me amused looks. But how else am I supposed to react? I clear my throat, tucking my hair behind my ear. "So..." I glance at Amalia and back at Armand. "You were just scouting me this entire time? Did Amalia need guitar lessons?"

Armand nods. "She did need and want guitar lessons, but we also like to make sure the people we recruit and represent have the right personality."

I furrow my eyebrows. "Right personality?"

"Kind," Coralie jumps in. "Caring. Humble. Patient. Respectful. Traits like those. And according to Amalia, you have it all." Her smile widens. "And from what I've seen, you have all the talent, too." She leans forward. "So, tell me, have you ever thought of performing as a career?"

I nod slowly, feeling weirdly light but heavy all at the same time. Like my soul doesn't know whether to stay where it is or float away. "Yeah. Since I was a kid."

Coralie props her head up with her hand. "What were you thinking? TV? Movies? Songwriting and singing?" She smirks. "Broadway?"

I swallow, playing with my thumbs beneath the table. "Broadway... It's always been about Broadway." Amalia knows that. Looks like she told her parents.

Coralie nods. "You have the skills and talent for it. I can get you there if you want me to."

"I..." I open and close my mouth a few times. "Can I...?" I place my hands flat on the table as I stand. "Can I have time to think about this?"

Coralie nods. "Of course, Briar. But I'll only be here until the summer ends, so I have to know by then. That gives you a little less than a month."

I nod. It feels like I'm here but not at the same time. I barely even hear myself say, "I'll get back to you by then."

Amalia hugs me. "Will you still teach me how to play the guitar?"

That grounds me a little. I wrap my arms around her. "Of course, Amalia. I'll be here for the rest of the summer to do that."

She smiles up at me. "And then you'll be a Broadway star!"

I laugh softly, my soul debating whether it should try and escape again. "Yeah. Maybe." I turn back to Armand and Coralie. They're watching me with amusement again, but also... hope. That I'll accept. I hold my hand out. "Thank you for the offer. I'll try to get back to you as soon as I can."

They stand, taking turns to shake my hand. They both hand me their cards, and Coralie winks at me as she sits back down. "You're talented, Briar. No matter your decision, I'm sure you'll do fine in life."

I smile and nod. "Thank you."

I slowly walk across the room to my family. I look down at the cards, skimming over them. It looks like they both work at the same talent agency. I'll look it up some more once I get home, but...Broadway... I just got offered a chance to be on Broadway... There's no way this is happening right now. But the cards in my hands are proof that it is happening.

"What was that about, Briar?" Dad asks.

I blink. "Hmm...?"

I glance up, realizing I'm back at the table. My eyes find Idris first. He gives me his light-up smile. Except this time, it's a little more intense. Like he's seeing the sunrise for the first time. I have to glance away before the butterflies become too overwhelming. But my eyes happen to flicker to his family. They still look annoyed, but even if they looked remotely pleased about... anything... tonight, I'd still feel my heart sink.

This night is about Idris. Not me. I already diverted the attention. I can't say anything right now and divert it even more. There's time to tell my family about the offer later, so I pocket the cards.

"Nothing," I say. "Amalia's parents were just thanking me for being up there on stage with her."

"As they should," Mẹ smiles, standing to pull me into a hug. "You did amazing, Con. I forgot just how much I loved seeing you perform."

"Thanks, Mẹ." I pull away, wringing my hands. "Do you think we can play the piano together again? It's been a while."

She blinks, staring at me. Once the question registers, her eyes start to fill with tears. "I'd love that."

I would, too. But if I accept Coralie's offer, will I even have time to play the piano with Mẹ? What if we head straight to New York? And why am I even thinking about this right now when there's something more important going on tonight? I don't even think I should be standing here talking to Mẹ right now.

I squeeze her hand, guiding her back to our seats. Idris doesn't hesitate to take my other hand under the table. He doesn't say anything, but that small gesture says all there is to say.

He's such a Hien. Always there to support me even when the night should be about him and his problems. So now it's my turn to be Lanh and push down the news for later. Because right now it's about Hien. It's about Idris. And it's time to see what his parents have to say.